


Letting It Be Is Not In His Nature

by xenadragon_xoxo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Bondage, Caning, Dom/sub, M/M, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-04-30 18:06:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14502573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenadragon_xoxo/pseuds/xenadragon_xoxo
Summary: Harry refuses to let it be. Draco punishes him as needed.





	Letting It Be Is Not In His Nature

**Author's Note:**

> Written for hp_may_madness on LJ, Day 1: Prompts: Let it be / cloud nine, Kink: bondage. Please heed tags as warnings!

Harry’s skin prickled with goosebumps as the sensation of smooth, thin strips of leather caressing his inner thighs sent thrills running up and down his spine.  
  
“Do you know why you’re being punished, Potter?” whispered a painfully seductive voice, low and steady, accompanied by the sound of soft, purposeful footsteps across the floor.  
  
The mental image of Draco Malfoy circling the room in the Muggle suit that drove Harry wild, holding the cat o’ nine tails in one hand and a cane in the other, was nearly enough to make Harry cum on the spot, even though he couldn’t see any of that happening through the thick black band of his blindfold. Harry tried to regulate his breathing and calm his leaking cock, knowing that to cum before being given permission would only result in more severe admonishment, but it was so, so difficult when Draco spoke to him that way.  
  
“I asked you a question, Potter,” Draco said, his voice growing gravelly and cold with warning. “Don’t make me ask you twice.”  
  
Harry tried to reply around the rather large and somewhat painful ball gag in his mouth, but all that came out were garbled, messy half-syllables that sounded more like he was gargling than trying to speak.  
  
The footsteps stopped. There was a dark chuckle that made Harry’s hair stand on end. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch that,” Draco said.  
  
Even in situations like these, Draco could never resist the urge to be a right git. Frustrated, Harry strained against his bonds, almost shouting into the gag in his desperation to say, “Because I was acting out.”  
  
He had barely finished his miserable attempt at forming full words before a stinging pain descended onto the right cheek of his arse and a loud crack rang through the air. Harry cried out, his legs automatically trying to jerk away but instead remaining pinned down by the ropes tying them to the large table beneath him. His arms attempted the same, but they were secured behind his back by more ropes, rubbing his wrists raw.  
  
“Watch your tone, Potter,” Draco hissed. “Need I remind you of your place?”  
  
The reprimand sent a surge of heat running straight to Harry’s already overfilled cock. Another harsh assault, this time on the left cheek, sent Harry screaming even further as he felt each individual lash of the cat o’ nine tails hitting his skin one by one, as though in slow motion. He barely had time to breathe before another agonizing attack breached the skin on his inner thigh, barely missing his balls by mere centimeters. This time, it was one single smacking sensation, somehow equally painful to the prior, and he realized it was the cane. The variation of sensations caused Harry to gasp raspily, moaning and writhing as much as his bonds would allow.  
  
The noise of sturdy footsteps resumed, and every one of Harry’s senses were on edge as his muscles tensed, anticipating the next spot that Draco would choose to lavish with pain, unable to do more than merely guess where that would be. The suspense was going to kill him, if trying so desperately to hold in his orgasm didn’t do that first.  
  
“You want to cum, don’t you, Potter?” Draco asked.  
  
Harry nodded frantically, desperately rutting his aching cock against the table.  
  
“But do you deserve to cum, Potter? After all you’ve done today? Acting out, being a brat, testing my patience?”  
  
Harry made a pitiful whining noise that would have embarrassed him if it didn’t turn him on so much.  
  
“Could it be, Potter,” Draco crooned quietly, “that you acted out on purpose, intentionally, because you had a bad day at work?”  
  
The last remnants of Harry’s working brain registered the question and its correct answer. He had, indeed, experienced a particularly rough day at the Ministry, with the Head of the Auror Office choosing to entrust a high-priority case to the wrong individual who would definitely mess up the whole operation. After complaining to Draco about the unfairness of it all, Draco had told him to simply let it be, and although Harry knew he was right - that the only way the Head would see his error in judgement was for that wrong individual to fail - those three words set off an irritation in him, because if Draco should know anything by now, it was that letting it be just wasn’t something Harry would ever do.  
  
It wasn’t long before Harry had refused to kiss Draco’s feet when told to and then ignored him when Draco demanded an explanation, and that led to the dominant Slytherin almost immediately swooping down on Harry and dragging him into their small but well-stocked BDSM dungeon.  
  
“If that’s the case, Potter,” Draco said slowly, bringing Harry’s numb mind back to the present, “wouldn’t it make very little sense for me to punish you by indulging in your whims and desires?”  
  
Harry thought he might start to cry. He was sure that his cock was going to burst at any moment. “Please,” he tried to beg, but once again, all that emerged from his drooling mouth was a strangled moan.  
  
Draco laughed. “Oh, Potter. If only you’d ever learned to let it be. It’s just not in your nature, is it?”  
  
Harry whimpered, and that’s when Draco unleashed the full force of his monumental punishments all over his body. Harry called out at the top of his lungs, his toes curling as the cat o’ nine tails descended on him again and again and again, each new lash against his skin furthering his arousal as his mind went foggy and blank with pain, _pain, more, please_.  
  
As though Draco could hear his very thoughts, the cane joined in on the action, striking Harry on the feet, calves, and thighs as the fibres of the multi-tailed whip struck his arse mercilessly, barely any pause between one sting and the next. If Harry had any semblance of his wits about him, he would have marveled at Draco’s coordination. Instead, his face fell forward, forehead nearly slamming into the table beneath him as he keened, teeth biting so hard into the gag he wondered vaguely, with the part of his brain that was still even remotely functioning, whether he’d break a tooth if he continued trying to grit his teeth so strongly.  
  
Harry suddenly realized that he had been shouting, crying in a mixture of ecstasy and agony, his voice reverberating around the cushioned walls of the room as he yelped and screamed louder than he could ever recall going before, teetering just on the border between bliss and torment, pleasure hovering dangerously over the edge.  
  
Hot breath was suddenly at Harry’s ear as the cat o’ nine tails continued to fall. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today, Potter,” Draco whispered. “Cum for me.”  
  
Harry nearly bent in half as his back arched as far as it would go, and he let out a final cry in a jumbled form of Draco’s name as he spilled on the table and all over his belly. Spent, his eyes slid shut and he collapsed, exhausted.  
  
\---  
  
Later, as Draco helped to soothe Harry down from his subspace high, Harry was unable to stop smiling. Draco caught sight of his grin and rolled his eyes.  
  
“Don’t look so smug, Potter,” he said. “You could have just told me you needed an outlet after your bad day.”  
  
Harry laughed, still feeling up in the air, like he was on Cloud Nine and never coming down. “Where’s the fun in that?”  
  
Draco shook his head as he handed Harry a glass of water and a small plate of Harry’s favorite treacle tart. “Do you ever just let things be?” he sighed, but Harry could see him trying to hide an indulgent smile. “Insufferable idiot.”  
  
Harry laughed. “ _Your_ insufferable idiot,” he said.  
  
Draco smirked as he opened up a bottle of strong-smelling ointment and began to rub it over the rope marks in Harry’s arms.  
  
“What time is it?” Harry asked. “I have some paperwork to finish up.”  
  
“Shh,” Draco soothed. “I still need to put some of this on that bright red and purple arse of yours.”  
  
“I’ll be fine,” Harry said, starting to stand up. The world still felt very strange and foreign after all the rough play, as though he wasn’t quite grounded. “I want to get it done by -”  
  
Draco grabbed him by the shoulders and forced him back down. Harry winced as the sting from the welts on his behind flared up, but it was a pleasurable pain, a pain that reminded him who he belonged to - and that reminder was one that made Harry whimper at the fierce look in Draco’s eyes.  
  
“Listen here, Potter,” Draco said. “You’re going to sit here and wait until I’m done putting this salve on, you’re going to finish your food and water, and then I’m going to run you a warm bath and you’re going to sit in it for as long as I say, and then you can go. Understood?”  
  
Harry swallowed, wondering if it was possible for him to get hard again so quickly, and nodded. “Yes, sir.”  
  
The frown melted right off of Draco’s face, turning instead into a warm smile. “Good boy,” he said, and the praise made Harry feel like his insides were glowing. “Now, roll over.”  
  
Harry obliged, turning so he was lying on his front, humming contentedly as Draco began to massage the gel onto bruised flesh. He closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation as he heard Draco grumble something about how “only an idiot Gryffindor would try to dodge aftercare”, and then muttering to himself about what kind of Dominant he’d be if he allowed Harry to be alone and surrounded by paperwork during subdrop.  
  
Harry’s heart began to swell as he thought of just how much Draco cared for and protected him. When they first started dating, he never thought he’d see so much compassion in the man he used to think was cold and unfeeling. It was no wonder that he ended up being the love of Harry’s life.  
  
As Draco finished and moved to wrap his arms around him, Harry couldn’t help noticing how although he was no longer right in the middle of his submission-frenzied high, he still felt like he was on Cloud Nine.


End file.
